


The Office Party

by TheInevitableSense



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Anal Sex, Angry Sex, Blow Jobs, But it's a kink I guess, Come Eating, Hate Sex, Humiliation, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Rimming, Rough Sex, Smut, i can't believe i'm actually posting this, it's just smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 23:36:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13375452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheInevitableSense/pseuds/TheInevitableSense
Summary: A dash of alcohol and hint of privacy.What else do you really need?





	The Office Party

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to my girlfriend, who asked for this for Christmas.
> 
> So almost a month later, here it is.

It was just supposed to be one of those stupid office parties. Some boring catering from some local restaurant. Everyone would eat some food the company paid for, drink a glass of wine or two, then go home to their families and/or pets or their nothing and come back to work the next day. Normal. Usual.

Then Washington booked a local DJ, one with a reputation of actually being decent for office gatherings. So that is how the 30-odd employees of Washington & Adams Law Firm found themselves in the large conference room, the lights dimmed, and music they remembered from their college days pounding from their speakers.

More specifically, that is how Alexander Hamilton and Thomas Jefferson find themselves on the edge of the actually writhing crowd of dancers, nursing wine and watching their meeting room get turned into the most pathetic excuse for a nightclub either man had ever seen.

“Everyone must be drunk off their asses,” Jefferson grumbles, looking over at their dancing coworkers. He leans against the wall, a glass of deep red wine in his hand, frown on his face. Alexander rolls his eyes.

“Or, maybe, they’re actual human beings who can have a good time if they want too,” Alexander counters. He can feel the last two flutes of champagne still bubbling in his veins. He’s not drunk, a bit tipsy maybe.

Jefferson cocks an eyebrow. “They’re lawyers at an office party.”

“And?” Alexander asks. “Aren’t lawyers human beings too?”

“Debatable,” Jefferson says.

“You’re a lawyer,” Alexander scoffs, turning to look up at the other, taller man.

“So are you,” Jefferson says, turning his entire body so that they’re facing each other, Jefferson still leaning against the wall. “That on its own is a point against the claim that lawyers are human beings. Or at least, all lawyers.”

“In that case, all lawyers must be demons, as evidenced by the two cases we’ve considered, you and me.”

Jefferson rolls his eyes and settles into the wall. “Of all the people in this room, why are _you_ of all people choosing to be a wallflower? Don’t need to sleep around anymore to secure your job?”

“Maybe, just _maybe_ , not everyone who you hate is a complete moron and actual can do things on their own merit?” Alexander snaps back.

To Alexander’s surprise, Jefferson doesn’t retort. He looks at Alexander, expression unreadable, then looks down at his wine and sighs. “Okay Hamilton.”

Alexander blinks, turning completely towards Jefferson. “Okay?”

“Okay, whatever. Tonight’s not the night to argue.”

Alexander pauses as Jefferson downs a mouthful of wine. He eyes Jefferson up, doing his best to ignore the way he looks in the low light, trying to determine how drunk the other man is. “Who are you and what have you done with Thomas Jefferson?”

Jefferson cracks a half smile at that. “Shut the fuck up Hamilton. I’m just trying to enjoy a nice glass of wine with my lovely coworkers.” He makes a sweeping motion towards the drunken crowd. Alexander glances over, only to find that they’ve been forgotten in the shadow of the wall. It’s like there’s a little bubble around them that none of the other people in the room can see through.

“None of them are paying any attention to you,” Alexander says.

“That’s something that bothers you more than it bothers me.”

“Oh okay, Mr. ‘I-wear-sparkles-to-the-office.’”

Jefferson just rolls his eyes again. “Shut your mouth Hamilton.”

Maybe it’s the drink, maybe it’s the late hour, maybe it’s the bubble Alexander feels around them in this corner, but something stirs low in Alexander’s gut. The words “make me,” fall out of his mouth in just the wrong tone before he remembers where he is, remembers who he’s talking to, remembers that he _can’t_ talk to _Thomas Jefferson_ of all people this way.

But then Jefferson’s eyes snap to him, and there’s a dark, almost dangerous look in his eyes. And maybe Jefferson is drunker than Alexander thought for, or maybe he’s feeling that same bubble around them, but then a moment later not only is Jefferson kissing him, but he’s kissing him hard and shoving his tongue into Alexander’s throat.

Alexander’s entire world flips as he finds himself pressed into the wall, pinned underneath a hungry mouth and searching hands. This kiss is far from gentle. It’s rough and it’s nasty and it takes Alexander a good second to figure out what’s happened but when he does he’s fighting back.

Not to push Jefferson off of him, no, the stirring in his stomach and his dick don’t allow him to do that. He’s fighting for dominance, to make up the ground Jefferson has already taken because Alexander already knows where this is headed and he wants to _win_.

Jefferson breaks the kiss, maintaining control of the situation and Alexander finds himself looking up at the other man. “Fuck,” he breathes, as they’re both panting, both looking at the other for who moves next.

Alexander takes the opportunity to move his hand forward, not breaking this electric eye contact he’s holding. Carefully, he reaches and feels for what he hopes is but doesn’t hope is there, and sure enough he can feel the outline and heat from underneath Jefferson’s pants.

“Do you want to shut me up some other way?” he asks, not quite sure what inside him is feeding him these words but they’re pouring out of his mouth now and he doesn’t regret them at all. Especially not as Thomas nods silently, and then wraps his long, thin fingers around Alexander’s wrist.

Alexander finds himself quickly pulled out of the party and into the quiet hallway. He can hear the music pound from behind the glass, but it gets quieter the further Jefferson pulls him away. By the time Jefferson shoves him inside Alexander’s office, Alexander can’t hear the music anymore.

Alexander isn’t ready to give up his fight yet, and he manages to yank his arm away and shoves Jefferson into his office chair. The force of it sends the rolling chair skittering back until it hits the wall. Alexander doesn’t even give Jefferson a moment to breathe before he’s on him.

Alexander plants his hands on the arms of the chair and smashes their faces together again. They nip and bite at each other’s lips. Jefferson’s hands pull at Alexander’ hair and he moans in the back of his throat. He runs his hands down Jefferson’s front, and can feel the hard lines of his stomach beneath his shirt.

But he doesn’t spend time there, slowing down might break this spell he’s found himself trapped in with Jefferson. His fingers travel down to the clasp on Jefferson’s belt and he manages to open it blind. He doesn’t even bother shoving Jefferson’s pants or boxers down but far enough to pull Jefferson’s dick out.

He feels Jefferson breathe in sharply, and Alexander leans back. Before either of them can think and process this for the bad idea that it is, Alexander shoves Thomas’ legs apart, drops to his knees and swallows him down in one go.

The sound that escapes Jefferson’s lips is just as good as the sharp tug on Alexander’s hair. Alexander moans around the cock in his mouth, and pulls back slightly. He lets just the tips of his teeth scrape along the length as he goes back up to the head. The way Jefferson’ hand clenches in his hair when Alexander flicks his tongue on the slit is so delicious, and Alexander can feel himself growing harder at every tug, every noise Jefferson emits.

“Oh fuck,” Jefferson breathes as Alexander makes his way back down. He can’t quite get all of it in his mouth, it’s much bigger than Alexander gave it credit for in the second he got to look at it. What he can’t fit he circles with his fingers, but then Jefferson tears his hand away and shoves Alexander’s head down until he chokes on Jefferson’s cock.

Alexander’s throat works around it, ugly noises escaping him as he’s suddenly pushed down. But he loves it. It’s just the right amount of rough and harsh and even as he can’t breathe it’s so good.

Jefferson pulls on Alexander’s hair, pulling his head up and down and Alexander is content to just being used. All thoughts of victory flee his mind as Jefferson saws his cock in and out of his mouth and throat. He laves his tongue up and down, swirling it around and lapping up the salty precome that doesn’t seem to stop.

He reaches down to palm himself but earns a swift kick. Jefferson’s foot nudges his hand away and when Alexander looks up at him he finds Jefferson looking down at him with dark eyes. “No,” he breathes. “Stop it you little slut.”

Alexander moans again around Jefferson, and then Jefferson’s hand in his hair tightens. Jefferson pulls him down again, and then he’s coming hot and thick down Alexander’s throat. Alexander struggles to swallow it all, even as Jefferson pulls his head off. A small drip of white manages to leak from the corner of Alexander’s mouth, but he makes eye-contact with Jefferson and swallows the last bit.

The sound that comes grumbling from the back of Jefferson’s throat sounds like _ten points for Alexander_ , if one was to keep score in this. Alexander surges upward to push their lips together again, flicking his tongue into Jefferson’s mouth and making the other man taste himself. Despite his recent orgasm, Jefferson isn’t languid or lazy as he tugs on Alexander’s hair, untucks Alexander’s shirt and scores his nails down the flesh of Alexander’s stomach.

And then Jefferson is standing, pushing Alexander back until his thighs catch on the side of his desk. They’re still kissing, all teeth and heat and an amount of pure lust Alexander has never quite experienced, not on this level at least.

And then Jefferson pulls back, and using his height and his hold on Alexander turns him around and shoves him face-first into the desk. He’s lucky his desk is clear on this side, as Jefferson doesn’t waste time clearing anything before he’s pulling Alexander’s pants and underwear down over his ass. Alexander’s blood is on fire, but he’s not expecting what Jefferson does next.

He feels the warm wetness of Jefferson’s tongue trail down the small of Alexander’s back, down and down until the tip is poking at the rim of his hole. Alexander moans loud, the sound tearing itself, uncontrolled, out of his chest as Thomas uses his hands to spread his ass and press the flat part of his tongue directly where Alexander wants it.

And a moment later he’s whining as it disappears. “Quiet, whore, did you forget where we are?” Jefferson asks. Alexander shakes his head, biting his lip hard not to make another sound at the name. “Not another sound.”

Alexander does his best to swallow every moan and whimper as Jefferson returns to what he was doing. If his goal was to show Alexander that he wasn’t the only one in possession of a wonderful tongue, he’s certainly doing a good job. Alexander can feel his erection trapped against the table, and his eyes fall shut as Jefferson’s tongue dances around his rim, working the muscle there to relax before slipping the tip inside of him.

Alexander can’t muffle the sound that comes from him this time. Jefferson’s fingers dig into his ass as he pulls away, and Alexander can hear him stand up behind him. There’s the shifting of fabric, and when Alexander looks over his shoulder, Jefferson is pulling his tie off.

“Condom? Lube?” Jefferson asks, not _do you have any?_ but _where are they?_ A rush of heat and arousal courses through Alexander as he reaches out one weak hand to point to the right side of his desk.

“Second drawer,” he says. “You’re gonna have to di-” his words are cut off as a wad of fabric is shoved into his mouth by a strong hand. Alexander makes a small noise of shock as Jefferson pushes his tie into Alexander’s mouth, but it’s muffled now.

“I told you to be silent, slut,” Jefferson spits. “You better not spit that out.”

Alexander feels his heart skip a beat at both the order and the insult, and he nods. Jefferson reaches down to the drawer Alexander had told him about and a moment later he has the small bottle of lube and a single packaged condom in his hand. He carefully spreads the lube over the fingers of one hand, puts the bottle on the desk, and presses a cold, slick finger against Alexander’s ass.

As he slips it in, Alexander watches as he takes his slowly-hardening dick in his other hand and gives himself a few lazy strokes. “I’m going to fuck you,” Jefferson says, and it feels like every ounce of air is pushed out of Alexander’s lungs. “Can’t wait to wreck that little ass of yours.”

All Alexander can do is grunt back, muffled. The finger inside of him works around, pumping in and out, pressing against his walls. Then Jefferson’s finger brushes along just the right spot and Alexander can’t help the way his hips jerk, the way he presses into Jefferson’s hand, trying to ask Jefferson to do that again with only his body.

In response, Jefferson instantly slips a second finger inside. It burns, but in the best way. Alexander knows he can take it, take _more_. Jefferson’s other hand presses down on Alexander’s hips, keeping him in place as he fucks his fingers in and out. A third finder presses inside without warning and Alexander’s whole body shudders at the sensation.

“Like that slut?” Jefferson asks, teasing in that dark tone. “You like my fingers inside you?” He curls his fingers and presses all three fingertips into Alexander’s prostate. Alexander’s vision goes hazy from the hot blooming pleasure, the heat curling and bubbling in his gut. He’d be screaming if it weren’t for the gag. “You’re not allowed to come until I say.”

Jefferson spends just a few moments more stretching him out, avoiding that wonderful spot inside Alexander, and then slips his fingers free. Alexander hears him fighting with the condom wrapper, then there’s a breath of silence, and finally something blunt pokes at his entrance.

But Jefferson doesn’t move, he simply sits there for what feels like an eternity. Alexander starts to squirm, his hips wiggling but instantly there are firm hands on either side, pinning him down and in place. Alexander’s heart beats heavy in his ears, waiting. He almost spits out the gag, starts demanding Jefferson get on with it, starts begging -

Jefferson slams in all the way, hard and fast, enough to knock the air out of Alexander’s lungs. It’s just the right amount of pain and pleasure mixing together as Alexander is pushed hard against the edge of his desk.

And then Jefferson is fucking him just as rough as his first stroke promised. Alexander’s hands dance along his desk, looking for something to hold on to, finding nothing. He’s taken along for the ride, Jefferson’s fingers digging into his sides. Alexander hopes they leave bruises. And Jefferson just uses him and uses him, hissing filthy words quiet enough not to be heard, but just loud enough for Alexander to hear.

If he was listening, of course. Because Alexander can’t concentrate on what’s being said as Jefferson pounds him from behind. He feels so _full_ , Jefferson is so big. All of Alexander’s moans and cries are caught by the gag in his mouth.

And then Jefferson shifts his angle just slightly and Alexander sees stars. The orgasm that had been building in his stomach explodes out of him almost without warning, and then he’s coming hard between his body and the desk.

Jefferson’s hips stutter for just a moment, but then he’s back at the same pace a moment later, carrying Alexander through his orgasm and straight to the edge of too much. His oversensitivity is overwhelming, even as Jefferson continues to fuck him.

“Didn’t you hear when I said not to come?” Jefferson hisses. Alexander doesn’t respond, his body limp. Then Jefferson grabs him by the hair and turns his head so they can look at one another. The angry, disdainful look on Jefferson’s face disappears in an instant. His hips stop moving, his cock still buried halfway in Alexander’s ass, and he quickly pulls the tie from between Alexander’s lips.

“Are you alright?” Jefferson asks, his body as still as a statue. For a moment, Alexander is confused, and then he notices he’s crying for the first time.

“Yeah,” Alexander breathes. “Keep going.”

“Are you -”

“ _Keep going_ ” Alexander insists. Jefferson’s look of actual concern vanishes, and in its place is that same disdain and anger from before.

“Commanding little slut,” he says, but he doesn’t shove the gag back into Alexander’s mouth, just returns to pistoning his hips in and out. Alexander’s body is jerked back and forth on the desk, and he can feel his own cum smear underneath him. Jefferson doesn’t stop, his thrusts start to become erratic and uneven.

And then he stills, coming deep inside Alexander and into the condom. Alexander almost feels disappointed that he doesn’t get to feel Jefferson’s come filling him up, doesn’t feel it dripping out of him even as Jefferson carefully slides out.

Alexander lies on the desk, fucked-out, as Jefferson quickly gets rid of his condom. He pulls his pants back up, but he’s only just starting to catch his breath as Jefferson buries his hand in his hair and pulls him off the desk. But he keeps Alexander bent over slightly, facing the mess of cum on the wood before him. There’s some dampening his shirt, but most of it still seems to be on the desk.

Jefferson leans down and speaks directly into his ear. “The slut came before he was allowed to,” he says, his accent heavy. “He made this mess.” Alexander nods, not quite sure what to say so he just whimpers instead. “And now, he’s going to clean it up.”

Alexander nods again, and reaches up to unbutton his shirt. Might as well, since the fabric is already ruined. But Jefferson’s other hand grabs his wrists, easily holding them both. “Nuh uh,” he says, teasing. “I know for a fact you’re good with your tongue.” With that, Jefferson lowers Alexander’s face back to the desk.

Alexander takes the hint, opening his mouth and licking up his own come from the desk. He’s grateful it’s just empty wood, no papers or anything. Jefferson guides his face, making sure Alexander gets every little bit on the top, and then pulls him back and shoves him to his knees to get what’s dripped down the side.

The unrelenting pressure on his scalp, the burning shame and the floating remnants of his orgasm combine to create an almost hazy feeling. He’s almost blissed out as he willingly runs his tongue up the side of his desk. He eats up his own come as Jefferson directs because suddenly he wants to be good. He doesn’t want to win anymore, he just wants to be _good_.

When the desk is clean, Jefferson pulls his head back to look up at him. And instead of that condescending, mocking look in his eyes Alexander was expecting, he finds something else. Something softer, something more adoring.

Thomas leans down and carefully helps lift Alexander to his feet. His legs are unsteady, and Thomas sits him down in his chair. “You did so good,” Thomas croons. “Let’s get you home and washed up, okay?”

Alexander nods dumbly, even as Thomas slowly peels the damp, sticky shirt from the smaller man’s body. When he’s shirtless, Thomas hesitates, looking around for a moment before shedding his own shirt off and wrapping Alexander up in the large fabric. Thomas puts on his coat, buttons it all the way up and balls up Alexander’s shirt as tightly as possible.

“Okay, come on,” Thomas says, finally turning back to Alexander and picking him up. “Good boy, you did so wonderful,” he murmurs, carrying Alexander in his arms. He carries Alexander out of the office, past the still-going party, and down to the car garage, all the while keeping up the gentle praise.

Alexander, for his part, buries his face into Thomas’ chest and lets the other man take him home.

**Author's Note:**

> Come yell at me on tumblr [here](https://theinevitablesense.tumblr.com/).


End file.
